


Destiny Field

by thepizzasitter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Fluff, Heaven, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Nudity, Wincest - Freeform, but also pissed at his unruly kids, but it's okay because, but not very graphic they're in a field so therefore clothes are not necessary, death is badass as usual, god is benevolent, happens sort of, he fixes things including winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzasitter/pseuds/thepizzasitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm waiting for your decision, dear boy. Don’t let guilt or grief cloud your mind now, because this time it is only you that is suffering. Sam has been happily awaiting your arrival for no time and an eternity now, and I don’t wish to keep one of the favored waiting.” There's a place between Life and Death, where a choice must be made. Finally, finally, with no more fight left in him, Dean chooses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny Field

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble prompt from Tumblr I forgot to post here. The prompt was a single word: Choice. Of all the things I could have written about, this odd thing was apparently it.

No amount of time with Sammy could ever have prepared him for this sight.

\----

Living as they had, running for their lives and fighting for their sanity, was always fated to end. There was no other option, and Dean had always known that Death was the most human creation of all, since it was for the living that Death existed.

The old gentleman smiled fondly, just a bit of whimsy on his part, when he found Dean struggling to breathe, gasping like the fish man had been forged from as he clutched a gaping wound in his side, weaponry strewn around the alley where Death had patiently watched Dean be slowly shredded by the most basic of demons. Watched as the fight went out of the stoic soldier and he simply let the demon mock and beat him bloody. Of course, Dean had put an end to the creature, with more ease than his previous motions had suggested, and lay there in pain and bleeding out. He would surely die if no one came to his aid, but perhaps that had been his intention.

“Death, I know you’re there, quit grinning and get over here,” the rough voice of the eldest Winchester had been hollow for months now, and it confirmed Death’s previous musings. Dean had been emptied when his brother’s life had been emptied from his body in the greatest feat a man could do: speaking to God.

When God had returned, there was no chaos, no uprisings or wars to be fought. Merely a very angry father who had just wanted some peace from His bickering children, and had expected--perhaps foolishly--for them to maintain what He’d put into place. The discipline had been swift and understood with the utmost clarity. Lucifer and Michael were currently restored to His side--though who knew how long that would last before they’d argue again. The universe continued to spin on as it always had, and Sam Winchester had been summoned to speak with The Creator. Death had been the only one permitted to stand by, and the resonance within God’s Voice had seeped into Sam’s soul, cleansing him of any imperfections, jesting with him about haircuts and Samson, and praising him for helping to keep His errant children in line during His absence.

And when God asked His child to come home, Sam had backed away fearfully, turned away from the Being who gave him life, and shook his head.

“I can’t leave Dean,” he choked out, knowing what he was denying, and wondering what he was about to suffer for his defiance.

“My precious Sam, do you honestly think I’m an idiot?” God laughed, and then made a face. “Actually, don’t answer that. I already know.” He winked, and suddenly Sam could breathe easy again. “I created you and Dean as I created Michael and Lucifer. You cannot be apart. Where one goes, the other follows, one entity in two unraveled, messy spaces. I created the pair of you as I created all people: it is not good that man should be alone, remember?”

 _How long has it been since Sam had read a verse for anything but information on how to kill a creature of one kind or another?_ Death wondered.

“I Am That I Am, and what I Am is Love. No matter its form, all good things in the world you knew, despite the horror and disappointment it can retain at times, has always been sung into existence with my love. If you pass here with my arm around your shoulder today, Dean will find you when he is ready. For you, it will be as if no time has gone by, but we all know how stubborn Dean is. For him, it may take a while to realize that he is as worthy of a place in Heaven as you. Will you let him complete this last task?” God asked seriously.

Sam’s answer was immediate.

“Ah, Dean, I wondered how long it would be before we came to this place. I really must cease betting with God, since He is all knowing. It’s rather cumbersome to keep losing, but I just can’t help myself from putting a little extra faith in you,” Death said casually, leaning on his cane and regarding the boy he’d grown fond of with ageless eyes.

“What the hell are you talking about, man?” Dean coughed out, blood dotting his shirt when it passed his bruised lips.

“God said it would be a few months before you were ready to join Sam, but I said you would hardly last a week without trying to find your brother. Of course, I was right on that score, but The Creator has always had an eye for detail, especially with His wording.” Death sighed, “I really ought to be embarrassed with how much I’ve let myself slip without Him around--no challenge, you know--but I suppose I ought to be grateful, since it means I get the honor of collecting you.”

“You know where Sammy is?” Dean’s voice was suddenly strong, like he could get through even this if it meant finding the other half of his soul.

“Of course I do, and so do you.”

“Cut the crypticism! And wait, how the hell are you talking to God all of a sudden?”

“No appreciation for patience, honestly...but alright, if you must know, your search for a crossroads demon is foolish and unnecessary. Sam has been in Heaven for a solid length of time now.”

Dean’s shock was wiped quickly from his face by the most hesitant relief mixed with agony Death had ever seen on a human. “Sammy...he’s dead?”

“Or finally alive, if you want a different perspective.”

“When?”

“As I said, several months ago. When you were asleep in the hotel in Detroit. I requested his presence to speak with God, and when he realized I wasn’t ‘taking the mickey out of him’ he came with all the curiosity a Man of Letters ought to have. But I don’t think you should hear the story from me. I think Sam is much better suited to tell you of his time with God,” Death said, and leaned over Dean, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, trying not to let fear bleed through the cracks in his armor.

“Waiting for your decision, dear boy. Don’t let guilt or grief cloud your mind now, because this time it is only you that is suffering. Sam has been happily awaiting your arrival for no time and an eternity now, and I don’t wish to keep one of the favored waiting.”

“But isn’t Sam in Heaven? I was right, wasn’t I? He didn’t believe me, but there’s no way he’d end up anywhere but there after the shit he went through. God fucking owes _him_ by this point.” Dean laughed, a mixture of joy and relief and a hint of bitterness. “But I--”

“If I hear one word of self-deprecation from your mouth, Winchester, you will regret it.”

Dean’s mouth hung open for a moment before he closed it slowly and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? And why is that?”

“Because your presence in Heaven is as right and necessary as Sam’s. In fact, if you dally much longer, God is probably going to start worrying about divinity and all manner of things that gods worry about far too often. So, if you’ll kindly put your arm on mine, I will escort you to your brother.” He held out his arm, and waited as Dean struggled internally for a moment before he struggled physically to raise himself up on Death’s arm.

“Shall we?”

“Fuck, this is either a really good or a really stupid idea.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

\----

A baited breath, and Dean is [i]aware[/i].

A heartbeat, pulsing with the exact beat of his own, breath matched to his, and sensations as though they were his own. The mingled familiarity and newness of this is...it's...well, Sammy would probably have a word for it. It's good, though. _So good._

 _Flowers?_ He wonders, a bit skeptical, until he opens his eyes and is jolted into the realization of where their Heaven is located.

The field is vast and littered with sunflowers, all stretched impossibly high to kiss at the sun, like Dean has stretched to his toes before to kiss his brother. This is the place he first made love to Sammy. It was the first time he ignored the unease and guilt and sense of wrong long enough to realize Sam had let go of the very same things, and when they broke the stems of stray sunflowers with the force of their wild movements--grasping greedily at first, before they tapered off into the vulnerability of sweeter emotion when they realized there was time left--Dean had let the sunflowers kiss the back of his personal sun and realized how right that sounded.

He runs, faster than he has when running from danger or towards it, because this danger is welcome. He hopes it will be worth it, to lay everything on the line like this, knowing he won’t be coming back this time, and what waits for him may be a lie. A cruel ploy, a sadistic promise, it doesn’t matter, because if there is one thing that never changes it is that there is no way in hell or heaven that he’ll trust something supernatural at its word until it proves itself with deed.

But he’s been wrong before.

It is as though he is underwater, vision half-blurred and out of focus, and he can only think of dreams and the movement sleeping minds can never make fast enough, until he stumbles into the hundredth or thousandth or millionth row of sunflowers and--

_Oh._

Sam’s back is to him, completely bared to the air that is fuzzy with humidity and a light breeze to ruffle the grass, and it is only then that Dean is aware of his own naked body. The light plays over his brother’s long, muscled form to cast shadows along his back and waist and the swell of his ass while he stands there, tracing long fingers over the endless petals of the swaying flowers.

Bright, hazel eyes turn to regard him with so much love it nearly fills him to bursting, and all he can choke out is “Sammy” before he’s trying to make his feet move forward to lean against his brother’s familiar skin, still scarred all over and perfect in every way. “Sammy!”

“Dean! You finally made it! Jerk, I’ve been waiting _forever_ ,” he jokes, welcoming Dean into his chest, and Dean can’t help it if he cries since there is no one but them to see.

“Bitch,” he mumbles into Sam’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his brother, relishing in the feeling of his fingertips pressing into the yielding skin. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Worried much?”

“Hell yeah.”

“It’s okay, Dean. I was too. They said I wouldn’t know how much time passed, but...” He shrugged. “When have we ever followed protocol correctly?”

Dean snorts skeptically and runs his fingers through the wild tangles of his brother’s hair to pull him in for a heated kiss. “Destiny Field? Really?” he teases when they’ve assured themselves of the other’s existence.

“You can pick the next place,” Sam promises, unashamed of where he’d spent his time while waiting. “But I kinda like the naked part.” He laughs into Dean’s grinning mouth and lets his brother bear him down onto the soft grass, the most pleasant sense of familiarity lighting through his body. “Think we should make the most of it?”

Hands are already beginning to make his blood rush faster and his body respond to the needed touch of Dean’s fingertips. Dean smirks fondly and kisses him breathless before he reaches up to snap a flower from its stem and tucks it behind Sam’s ear playfully.

“That’s the idea, Sammy.”

“We’ve got forever right?” Sam asks, and Dean can’t stop staring at how his hair is splayed around him and can’t stop feeling how his hips are beginning to press up into Dean’s.

This he can do. Sam had forever from him a lifetime ago.

“Always, Sammy.” He leans back after a moment and lets his laughter sound unhindered for the first time in what feels like eternity. The sounds, the touch of wind on his back and soft petals brushing his skin, the smell and taste of summer dirt and grass, and the sight of his brother spread out under him feels like coming home.

“Our backsides are going to be perpetually sore,” Sam grumbles, pulling Dean down to him and this time, both of their laughs mingle and sink deep into the ground to be soaked up by sunflowers in a never ending field.


End file.
